


No Leads

by sleapyGazelle



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Universe, Galaxy Garrison, Getting Together, M/M, Shiro (Voltron) is Missing, Sort Of, Time Travel, rating for one minor scene of accidental underage drinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:37:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleapyGazelle/pseuds/sleapyGazelle
Summary: Keith wakes up to find he's back at the Garrison, three years in his own past. This seems like an opportunity to change something; but when he starts to forget the future he came from, events take their natural course. Maybe it's not the past that needs changing, but the future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for OTPlease zine

“Hey, good job out there buddy!” Lance passed Keith on his way back to the castle with a light punch to his shoulder. 

Keith smiled back with a two finger wave/salute combo before heading off to his room. Team Voltron had been in battle on and off for the past two days, running on about two hours of sleep in total. Keith was ready to conk out, lights out as soon as his head hit the pillow. Judging by where the others were headed, they had similar plans. 

Keith just about made it to his room without collapsing. He shrugged out of his jacket and hung it up before falling prone onto his bed. 

* * *

_Keith stirred, the distant wisps of a dream already drifting further away. It had been something intense, he thought, what he’d been dreaming about, but he was still in the clutches of sleep and couldn’t be bothered to strain his mind. He took a deep breath and inhaled the faint smell of soap—distinctly_ Earthen _laundry soap. The bed felt different too, he realized, broader than his cot in the castle._

Keith bolted upright, and his head hit the bunk above him. 

There wasn’t supposed to be a bunk above him. 

He blinked blearily in the darkness; he had to close his eyes and open them again multiple times, interspersed with pinches along his arms, before allowing himself to admit that he was in his old room back at the Garrison. He looked down at his hands: unblemished, no sign of the little scars and calluses that had become a part of him. He ran a hand over his face: smoother, younger. He slipped the same hand into his hair: shorter than he'd gotten used to. 

Starting to panic, he got out of bed and made his way across the room, sparing a glance above to confirm that his Garrison roommate, Riz, was indeed asleep in the top bunk. He reached the other end of the small room to find that the little wall mirror was just where he remembered. Peering at his reflection, even in the dim light, he finally saw what he already knew: he was somehow, impossibly, sixteen again. 

Keith thought about the last thing he remembered. He’d been fighting a Galra fleet alongside the team, and after winning, he’d returned to the castle to finally go to bed…. That was all he remembered before waking up three years in the past. 

This was all a dream. There was no other explanation. 

He went and sat back down on his bed, considering how he should wake himself up. Despite the adrenaline coursing through him just moments ago, he felt the tug of sleep behind his eyelids again. Maybe he should just go back to bed and he’d wake up from this dream later. And so that’s what he did. 

* * *

He awoke to a shrill ringing alarm he hadn't heard in years. As he opened his eyes, he registered Riz bustling about the room getting ready. 

“You up finally?” said Riz. “It’s not like you to sleep in. Better get ready if you don’t wanna be late for the simulator.” 

Keith sat up, head throbbing even though he hadn’t hit it on the bunk this time. Dread pooled in his gut. What on Earth was going on? 

“Hurry up, Keith.” Riz’s voice drilled through the cacophony in his brain “Iverson’s just _looking_ for an excuse to do you in, you know.” Keith got up, his movements feeling like he was moving through water. He let his arms and legs carry him by habit, getting dressed and following his roommate out the door. 

* * *

The Garrison was just as he remembered it. The bustle of students in the mess hall surprisingly calmed his headache somewhat; it drew him out of his own mind. He looked around, seeing familiar faces everywhere, kids he’d never bothered getting to know but whose faces rang bells in his memory. He sat down for breakfast with Riz, who was also his engineer, he now remembered. Riz made a few comments about how to improve their score in the simulator the next time they went in, to which Keith nodded absently. His eyes were scanning the hall for a few familiar faces in particular. If he was right, and he’d somehow been transported three years into the past, then…. 

Where were they?

He spotted them entering the mess hall, laughing together and _looking younger than he was used to seeing them._ Lance and Hunk. As he watched them, Lance turned his head toward Keith. Keith stared harder, trying to see if there was any recognition in those eyes, but instead of smiling or waving, Lance’s brow furrowed in irritation and he looked away, cheeks reddening slightly. 

The expression wasn’t unfamiliar to Keith. He just hadn’t seen it in a while. That was how Lance used to act around him back at…the…Garrison. And in their early days in space together.

So he really was back in the past then. With no idea what had sent him here, and no leads on how to get back. 

He turned back toward his breakfast, and the thought hit him so suddenly he dropped his toast onto his plate with a soft clunk. Riz beside him was asking what happened but Keith didn’t hear him because...because if he hadn’t been booted from the Garrison yet, then where was Shiro?

* * *

Keith was in no mood to answer questions like ‘how do you not know what date it is?’ or ‘what the heck is the Kerberos mission?’ or, alternatively, ‘you were just talking about Kerberos yesterday, how have you forgotten when they left?’

So he needed a way to figure out where _exactly_ in the past he was. Or rather _when_ he was…. He resisted the urge to pull on his hair in frustration, knowing that touching it would just remind him how much shorter it was. Once he got to the simulator, the screen would show him the date. So he waited as patiently as he could. 

When he got into the simulator and saw the date on the screen, it wasn’t any comfort. In fact he could no longer ignore the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. _April 10, 2113._ The Kerberos mission had already departed a few weeks ago. There was no way to stop or warn Shiro, Matt, and Commander Holt. 

Yet another time he’d failed to save Shiro.

Keith sighed and forced himself to tune back in to the simulator.


	2. Chapter 2

Keith had forgotten how lonely life had been at the Garrison once Shiro had left for Kerberos. He’d had no other friends and no idea how to change that. And now, seeing Lance and Hunk nearby, sometimes just a few paces away from him, but not talking to them, felt _wrong_ , but he couldn’t just walk up uninvited and join their conversation. They’d become his friends after sharing some life and death experiences and having no one else to bond with millions of miles away from home. This situation was different. 

Lance was a cargo pilot in this reality and, as Keith had learned much later, resented not being fighter class. Keith was lost in these thoughts as he made his way to his next class, bumping into someone as he turned a corner. Coincidentally, Lance stood before him now, wearing a scowl on his face. 

“Sorry,” said Keith. 

“Oh sure you are,” Lance drawled. “Ace pilot, best of his generation, likes to walk around like it’s everyone else’s job to get out of his way.” He looked genuinely upset, much more than Keith thought was warranted for having been bumped into on accident. 

“I said I was sorry,” he said, starting to get testy himself. 

“Whatever, _Mullet_ ,” Lance grumbled, knocking his shoulder deliberately hard as he shoved past. 

Well the nickname hadn’t changed. He ran a hand through his hair and wondered how this Lance would react if he suddenly saw the much longer hair Keith sported in space. 

He got to his next class, having managed to dig out his schedule from the bottom of his bag, to discover it was one the fighter and cargo pilots shared. Lance entered a few moments after he did, looking away hurriedly when their eyes met but choosing the seat directly behind Keith. Keith took comfort in his presence, even knowing that Lance probably still thought of him as a rival. 

When class ended, Keith turned around. For no reason, really. He’d just known Lance was there and maybe wanted to give him a nod or wave before leaving as he was used to doing by now, but Lance reacted like he’d just had cold water thrown on his face: turning away, blinking fast. And there was that blush again. It didn’t quite look like anger to Keith, but he brushed it aside and decided not to push an acquaintance when it was clearly unwanted. As he gathered his things, he tried not to think too hard about the sadness welling up inside him at the thought. 

* * *

Keith wondered whether Lance had always been so obvious with his discomfort around him and he’d just never noticed, or if there was something different about this reality. Lance often came to observe his simulations, sometimes throwing backhanded compliments or childish insults at him when he walked out. Keith was at a loss for how to handle it. If it had been anyone else, or if it had been Lance before he’d become his friend in the future, Keith would’ve thrown insults back as good as he got. How many times had he called Lance stupid and a terrible pilot back when they were still getting to know each other? But now it was different. He knew what a good and caring person Lance could be. He knew what his friendship felt like, and bearing his hatred hurt more than he could’ve imagined.

“Yeah Mullet, quit trying to show off!” Lance called to him one day when he’d gotten out of the simulator to a scolding by Iverson. Apparently he cared too much about his own flying and not enough about his crew. It was a bullshit criticism as far as Keith was concerned; he hadn't gone for the nosedive without being sure it would be safe for the others, but he didn't bother explaining that to Iverson; he had more than enough memories telling him it would be pointless. 

Instead, once Iverson had turned his attention to the next group, he walked up to Lance. “Hey what's your problem?” 

Lance looked taken aback; he clearly hadn't been expecting Keith to actually respond to the teasing. 

“Do you seriously not have anything better to do?” Keith continued. “You know, you'd be a better pilot if you trained more instead of obsessing over me so much.” 

Lance sputtered, angry blush rising as he scrambled to defend himself. “I'm not— I don't— Hey, shut up!”

Keith raised his eyebrows. 

“Great comeback, Lance,” a subtly sarcastic voice piped up beside them. It was Hunk. “How about we stop fighting and go get ourselves a filling lunch? I'm Hunk, by the way. This is Lance.” 

“He's not eating with us!” Lance exclaimed, stopping Keith from giving himself away with an ‘I know.’ 

“Lance!” Hunk chastised, but Keith took a step back. That hurt far more than he'd care to admit, especially with the images his mind was providing him of food goo meals eaten together in the castle. 

“It's fine, I need to get something from my room anyway,” he lied, walking away from his friends. He needed to get back to his own reality. 

Back in his room, he ignored the rumble of his stomach and paced, thinking over what he knew. Trans-reality substances existed that could transport you into alternate universes. He'd experienced it before when the team had met Sven, but then, they'd passed through a portal. This time Keith had just fallen asleep and woken up somewhere entirely different in the space-time continuum. He'd never paid too careful attention in his theoretical physics classes, but he was pretty sure that shouldn't be possible. 

So if something impossible had happened, how could he reverse it? Everything that had ever happened to him, from birth to the present, was stranger than fiction, but at least with everything else—his Galra heritage, finding the blue lion, the existence of Voltron—there had been a logical explanation. 


	3. Chapter 3

Within a few days, Hunk had managed to shut Lance up long enough to invite Keith to have lunch with them. The moment he accepted, Keith had a sense of reverse deja vu; the first time he’d lived through this timeline, Hunk had invited him to eat together once. Keith had declined in a bout of anxiety, and now he realized it must’ve come off as rude because he hadn’t been asked again. Looked like he was making changes to his past already. People often talked about getting to relive their past and doing things differently; Keith had always thought that was a stupid topic of discussion. Why spend time thinking about the impossible? But for him, it had become a chance he hadn't known he needed. 

The three of them sat down at a table together. Keith waved to Riz, whose friend group he’d usually eaten with, avoiding conversation with guys he'd never felt at home with. Riz nodded back and returned to his own conversation. 

“So,” Hunk began, pulling Keith out of his reverie, “anyone done with Professor Montgomery’s latest essay?”

Right. There was homework in this reality. 

“I love how you specify that you mean her latest when I’m still not even done with the previous one,” Lance replied. 

Keith let out a sudden bark of laughter. It wasn't even that funny, but hearing Lance cracking jokes again released something pent up inside him. 

Hunk turned pleasantly surprised eyes on him, but Lance was staring openly. Keith's short laughter had already subsided into a lingering grin, which he self-consciously wiped when Lance went right on staring. “What?” Keith demanded. 

“Nothing!” Lance turned away, reddening again. 

And well, wasn’t that interesting. Because Keith knew for a fact Lance’s animosity toward him did not extend so far as to despise even a small laugh from him. No, this was something else. This reminded Keith of when Lance got flustered at Keith’s teasing remarks after the incident with Nyma. This was embarrassment, not anger. And it was an established fact that Keith’s confidence soared when Lance was embarrassed. Now, far away from a war with intergalactic stakes, maybe he could finally allow himself to ask why. 

* * *

The next day found the three of them in the library, working on homework together, but Keith's eyes were drawn to Lance more than to his own notes. Lance was typing frantically, fingers flying over the virtual keyboard as he crammed what was possibly every word he knew into his essay. 

“Done!” Lance shouted, pumping a fist in the air after an unnecessarily violent tap on the save button. He sunk back into his seat sheepishly when the librarian gave him a particularly stern look from her desk a few feet away. When she turned away, Lance immediately pulled Hunk's tablet away from him. “What do you say we hit the town tonight?” 

“You already know my answer,” Hunk said, trying to get his tablet back. He sighed. “And I also know that you're gonna drag me out regardless, so at least let me finish my homework. It's due tomorrow!” 

Lance grinned, relinquishing the tablet now that he'd gotten a yes from Hunk. “I'm done!” he repeated. “You can copy from it if you want.” 

Keith snorted. “Then he'll surely fail.” 

“Hey you know what?” Lance rounded on Keith, voice was rising again and taking on a shrill tone. 

“Yeah?” Keith egged him on. 

“At least it's better than yours!” 

Keith bit back a smile. Another thing that hadn't changed: Lance was shit at comebacks. 

The librarian click-clacked over to their table, banishing them to take the shouting outside. Keith and Lance bickered on their way out, each blaming the other for their dismissal. 

As they made their way toward the dorms, Hunk asked Lance in a too-loud whisper, “So where do you want to sneak off to tonight?”

_“Shh!”_ Lance whipped his head around in all directions to make sure no one had overheard before dipping his head close to Keith's and Hunk's, drawing them into a conspiratorial huddle. “I heard Dan’s friend Rob is having a party at his place. It's not too far from here. There'll be girls there and it's the cool crowd; what more does a guy need?” 

“I don't know, Lance.” Hunk was getting cold feet already. “If we get caught out past curfew…” He trailed off, clearly unwilling to voice the various disaster scenarios he was imagining. 

“Come on, it'll be fun! Where's your sense of adventure? And Mullet here can come too, by the way,” he tacked on, “if he isn't too chicken.” 

Keith wondered briefly why he was putting up with this. “You sure my face won't spoil your night or something?” he asked with biting sarcasm. 

Lance looked up so abruptly, he bumped his nose against Hunk’s forehead. There was discomfort in his expression, a need to respond but doubt about how to say it. All malice was gone from his eyes, if it had ever been there. And that, Keith remembered, was why he was putting up with it: to draw Lance out of his obnoxious facade—at least a little—and get at the friend he knew was inside. 

“You're not,” Lance began. “I don't—” 

But what Lance didn't, Keith never got to hear, because Iverson was approaching and Hunk saluted, signaling them to break off their impromptu huddle. 

“See you guys tonight then,” Keith muttered, leaving them to head toward his wing of the dorms. 


	4. Chapter 4

Dan’s friend Rob, it turned out, was loaded. Or, more accurately, his parents were. The house was enormous, practically a mansion. Keith felt like parts of it reminded him of the castle, but when he tried to focus on the vague images in his mind, his memory failed him. His panic over his apparent inability to remember what a certain room of the castle looked like lasted only a moment though, because Lance was already bounding ahead toward the kitchen, where punch and various drinks were laid out on the counter. Hunk walked around looking like he was afraid Iverson would pop out from behind a corner at any moment and give him detention. 

Keith watched Lance, fixated on the way the dim lighting made him look…otherworldly. Lance's eyes were glued to where furniture had been cleared to make a dance floor. A group of girls was dancing together and he clearly wanted to join them. Lance absently reached for a cup on the counter and drank, pausing to grimace after one sip and peering into the cup. Then he shrugged and downed the rest. He started moving in place, hips rocking to the over-loud beat, fingers tapping against the counter. His eyes drifted from the girls as he danced in place, and landed on Keith. 

Keith became aware that he was staring, but there was no point in getting embarrassed; he'd been caught anyway. And besides, he'd just witnessed something _very_ interesting. 

He walked up to Lance, who was now holding his gaze, and said, “I can't believe I've never seen you dance before.” 

Lance grinned; it was both happy and dangerous at the same time. “I'm an amazing dancer,” he bragged. “You'd be so amazed.”

Keith smiled back, slipping into the familiar banter easily. “You're all talk, Lance. Rocking in place is one thing, but actually dancing?”

“You don't even know!” Lance leaned forward, pointing a finger at him. “I'd beat you in a dance-off any day.”

Keith sighed, surprising himself when it came out fond. “Why is everything a competition with you?” 

Lance considered Keith for a while before saying, so quietly that Keith almost missed it, “Only with you.”

“You only want to compete with me?” Keith asked, to make sure he'd heard right. 

Lance's eyes went downcast as he nodded. Even in the low light, Keith could see the becoming blush dusting his cheeks. 

“Why?” he asked, even though, with his eyes on the color spreading along Lance’s face, he was starting to figure it out for himself. 

Lance looked away, refusing to answer, searching for a place to direct his gaze that wasn't Keith, but Keith was determined. He took a step closer, boxing Lance in against the edge of the counter. “Why only me, Lance?”

With nowhere left to go, Lance's eyes—shining blue even in the dark—locked with Keith’s. “Because you’re incredible,” Lance almost whispered. “So good at everything.” He reached out a finger and brushed Keith’s bangs away from his eyes. “Even a hideous hairstyle looks good on you. You always look amazing.”

Keith had gravitated close enough to Lance now to make out the slightly unfocused look in his eyes. “Why do you hate me, Lance?” His own voice dropped into a whisper as he asked it; it was a trick question. He just needed to hear Lance say it. 

“I don't…” Lance said heavily. 

“Hmm?” Keith leaned in closer, close enough to feel Lance's breath, close enough to smell…was that…

“I don't. I like you.” Once he said it, a barrage of words was unleashed. “I mean, I like girls, don't get me wrong, I always have, but, every time I see you, it's like— I just— You're so hot, Keith, do you even know?”

…was that _alcohol_ on Lance's breath?

* * *

Keith and Hunk managed to sneak Lance back to his dorm without incident. The harder task was getting a tipsy Lance to actually sleep, but Hunk managed valiantly. 

The next morning, however, was understandably awkward. Keith ran into Lance in the mess hall; and by the look on his face, Lance remembered everything about their conversation from the party. The entire night, Keith had been replaying it in his head. He had figured out that Lance might admire him, and that maybe some of the anger he showed was really jealousy, but he'd never allowed himself to entertain the voice inside suggesting Lance might be _into_ him. And now to hear it said so clearly… but Keith also had a feeling Lance never would've said what he had if not for the alcohol. 

Lance now stood before him looking quite uncomfortable. 

“Look,” Keith began, “I understand if—”

“I meant what I said, okay?”

“You— what?”

Lance's eyes were shut tight as he went on. “I just need you to know...that I meant it. You may not feel the same way, but I'd rather you know the truth than think I actually hate you.”

Keith took a deep breath as he processed what he'd just heard. “How long?” he asked. 

Lance breathed out a laugh. “I don’t even know.”

“I’ve felt it ever since I actually got to know you,” Keith confessed. Lance looked at him blankly, so Keith explained, “I like you too, idiot.”

Lance's eyes widened comically. 

And Keith couldn't help himself; he burst into laughter. It wasn't long before Lance joined in. 


	5. Chapter 5

Keith and Lance had decided to take things slow, which was just fine with both of them. Lance had time to figure his own feelings out, while Keith had the chance to revel in the slow burn romance he’d never realized he was waiting for. Some days, with his hand pressed in Lance’s, Keith found himself wondering about a dream he’d woken up from one morning. It had been really distressing, like finding yourself far from home, but Keith couldn’t quite remember it anymore. And besides, he never felt more at home than when Lance traced the lines on his palm with an increasingly confident finger. 

Immersed though he now was in this reality, Keith could never forget Shiro. As the days wore on and the scheduled return of the Kerberos mission crew neared, a vague dread pooled in Keith's belly. It seemed completely irrational, and yet, his worst fears were confirmed when the faculty called an assembly to make an announcement. 

The Kerberos mission was missing and the crew was presumed dead. Keith felt his heart drop into his stomach, and also felt a simultaneous, inexplicable sense of deja vu. 

They could've left it at that but as Iverson passed Keith on his way out of the hall, he paused to address him. “I trust you won't make this an issue, Cadet. That crew lost their lives due to their own errors. I won't have you—”

Keith interrupted without thinking. He _reacted_. “Shiro is alive! You're wr—”

Lance slapped a palm over his mouth, cutting him off. With his other hand, he grabbed Keith's, using the hold to tug him closer. “We're just upset, sir,” he said to Iverson. “We really looked up to those guys.” 

Iverson glanced at their tightly interlaced fingers before taking a step closer to Lance. “I suggest _you_ mind your own studies, Cargo Pilot.”

Keith waited until Iverson was gone to thank Lance—not only for redirecting the commander’s wrath but also for stopping Keith from doing something impulsive. He surely would've decked Iverson right then if Lance hadn't intervened. 

Later that night, alone in a secluded corner of the kitchen, Keith tried and failed to keep his shoulders steady as he tried to explain. “Don't look at me like that! I'm not just being emotional. The Kerberos crew was the best the Garrison could've put together. It just doesn't add up.”

Lance had one hand on Keith's shoulder, but he looked like he wanted to fold in on himself. “These are our teachers Keith. Why would they lie to everyone?”

“That's what I need to figure out.”

* * *

Keith had little else on his mind over the next few days, constantly thinking about what he could do. Even as he waited for his team’s turn in the simulator, his mind replayed everything he knew about the Kerberos mission. There had to be flight logs the crew had transmitted. How could he get his hands on them? 

He was knocked back into his surroundings when the very word that now haunted his existence caught in his ear. 

“—Kerberos crew lost their lives due to rookie mistakes just like the ones you just made in there.” Iverson was scolding a short cadet, someone Keith hadn't seen at the Garrison before. The copper eyes and messy hair stirred something deep in his mind, but he couldn't place it, and it stayed buried.

“That's not true!” the cadet shouted back. “The Kerberos mission wasn't lost due to pilot error!” 

Iverson bent close to get on the cadet’s eye level. “Sharp tongue you got there. And dare I say, your voice is familiar. So far, I've found no way to prove you're anyone _but_ Pidge Gunderson, but disrespecting and contradicting a superior officer? Speaking out of line?” He straightened back to his full height. “Those are grounds for suspension at the very least. I'll see you in my office after simulations are over!” 

Pidge Gunderson stormed off, wearing an unreadable expression, and was not seen again. Rumors floated about in the coming days that Pidge had blown up at Iverson, punched him in the face even. As interesting as this was, Keith was more concerned with the conviction he'd heard in the words ‘that's not true.’ Where had that confidence come from? He had to track Pidge down and see if he could get any information. Because he had to find Shiro, but how could he look for someone lost in space when he was grounded with no leads? 

* * *

Looking for Pidge was practically a dead end. Keith, Lance, and Hunk had snuck in to the administrative offices one night to dig up the student records, but every contact, both physical and digital, in the file were duds.

Keith wanted to throw up. In the few hours left for sleep that night, Keith walked Lance back to his room, wanting to prolong being alone for as long as possible. Lance kept their walk at a languid pace, letting Hunk go on ahead. When they got to the door, Keith was just gathering up the last of his courage to say goodnight when Lance spoke. 

“Stay over.” His soft voice was stark against the stillness of the hallway. “Don't go, Keith.” 

Keith felt the wisps of courage he'd collected gathered dissipate into the air. Head bowed, he followed Lance inside. Hunk was already asleep on the top bunk. Lance climbed into bed, holding up the corner of his blanket in invitation. “Just no funny business, okay?” he warned. 

Keith had an indignant retort on the tip of his tongue, but then he saw the laugh in Lance's eyes. Impossibly after the week he'd had, he felt the corners of his mouth turn up in response. “You wish,” he muttered, as he got under the covers with Lance. 

With an arm wrapped around Lance's waist and head tucked against his chest, Keith heard Lance's whispered words loud and clear. “It's going to be okay.” From anyone else, heard anywhere else, the words would've sounded empty, but right then, something deep in the recesses of Keith's mind urged him to believe Lance. 

He drifted off to the rhythm of Lance's fingers rubbing circles against his arm. 


	6. Chapter 6

Keith awoke decidedly alone. Heavy eyelids still closed, it took him a groggy minute to figure out why that felt weird.

He'd fallen asleep in Lance's arms. 

His eyes popped open and he sat up, minding his head, only to find…no bunk above him. He blinked, and his room in the castle materialized before his eyes. 

With every second he was awake, the details of his dream came flooding back into his consciousness. He'd been at the Garrison, but this time he'd made friends—in one case, _more_ than friends. Heat rose to his face as he recalled the intimacy; he could still feel the ghost of Lance’s touch on his skin as if it had been real. With a jolt, a punch to the gut, he remembered that outside of that dream, he and Lance were just friends. 

He could not allow himself to wish to be back in the dream. He’d had to relive the pain of losing Shiro, _again_ ; he could be nothing but thankful that wasn't real, but his twin size bed felt too big, and he had the sense he wouldn't be able to shake that feeling too easily. 

When he joined the others for breakfast, seeing everyone together, seeing _Shiro_ among them, _safe_ , made his chest feel so full that he quickly sat down and stuffed his face full of food goo before he could say something extremely sappy and embarrass himself. 

But then his eyes fell on Lance's profile; he was turned toward Allura, listening raptly to something she was saying. His hair was getting longer; Keith could tell more clearly now that he had Garrison Lance fresh in his mind to compare. His jaw was sharper, his eyes more mature, but his smile was just as bright. And the urge to walk over and kiss him was so strong that Keith swallowed his mouthful way too quickly. The happy feeling in his chest from moments ago turned into an entirely different kind of heaviness. He forced his gaze back to the mass of neon green in front of him. _This was fine._

* * *

It was not fine. Lance teased Keith in the playful way he always had. In the way Keith usually brushed off but couldn't anymore because he had memories now—albeit unreal—of responding with flirting, of pulling Lance in for kisses on the nose and cheeks and the spot just below his ear that made Lance's whole body quiver. 

But he couldn't do any of those things, because this was his reality. And in this reality, he wasn't Lance's boyfriend. 

Lance meanwhile went right on being Lance, but now, Keith found he couldn't bear it anymore. When Lance flirted with the alien girls—and occasionally boys—whom they encountered on their diplomatic missions, every wink and finger-gun knocked the air out of Keith’s lungs. The more he tried to ignore it, the worse it pounded in his head. 

Dream-Keith had thought that bearing Lance's hatred after knowing his friendship was hard. Dream-Keith had had no inkling about bearing Lance's friendship after knowing his love. 

* * *

It was not fine. And Keith had to do something about it. 

He'd gone over every detail he remembered from his dream over the past few days, and it made no more sense the fifteenth time than it had the first. There was just one point he kept coming back to. In his dream, he hadn't been able to handle not being Lance's friend; and so he'd done something about it. 

Now, he couldn't handle not being his boyfriend; and so he was going to do something about it. 

He sought Lance out in the ship, wandering like a wayfarer tortured by thirst. He found him playing the RPG Pidge had managed to hook up but no one had yet managed to beat. Keith went and sat next to him, hoping the proximity would dislodge the words stuck in his throat. 

“Hey, man,” Lance greeted him without looking away from the screen. “What’s up?”

_A whole lot._ “I, uh, had this dream…” 

“Oh yeah?” Lance’s entire body was tensing with exertion as he operated the controller, but his voice was sincere when he asked, “Wanna talk about it?”

_Did he ever._ Keith shut his eyes, took a deep breath, and went for it. “You were in it.” Keith _felt_ Lance’s gaze turn on him, but he didn’t open his eyes. “We were back at the Garrison.” He left out the panic of the dream in favor of what had drawn him here now. “We became friends.”

“Friends?”

“Boyfriends….” Keith chanced a peek at Lance. The flashing colors of the Game Over screen played on the side of his face, setting him aglow. Keith _yearned_ , felt he could implode from the need to _hold_. 

Lance was quiet for the longest time, until finally, he asked, “Like this?” He shifted closer, moving in with his eyes on Keith’s lips, slow enough that Keith had ample opportunity to stop him if he wanted. 

Stopping Lance was the last thing Keith wanted. He just concentrated on keeping his hands from reaching for Lance and pulling him close faster. 

When Lance’s lips met his for the first time, Keith was so stunned by a feeling more powerful than he ever could’ve dreamed, that he forgot to move, but when Lance started to still and pull away in hesitation, it stirred Keith into action, He reached for Lance’s cheek as he kissed back, finding penance for every moment he’d spent pining in that one touch. 

Lance broke for air first. “I’ve wanted to do that ever since the Garrison,” he breathed. 

Keith pressed his lips to his favorite spot beneath Lance’s ear, smiling against his skin when he felt the shudder. “You could’ve said something, you idiot.”

Lance breathed out a laugh. “I guess I just wasn’t ready. Apparently I was cooler about that in your dream.”

“You might’ve been a little drunk,” Keith admitted with a chuckle. 

Lance snorted. “That makes a lot of sense.” He wrapped his arms around Keith’s waist. “Hey, Keith?”

“Hmm?” 

“I’m glad you told me about your dream.”

Keith buried his nose in Lance’s hair. “I’m glad dream-you had a spiked drink and blabbed.” 

Lance’s laughter rumbled against Keith’s chest. The screen continued to flash ‘Game Over’ beside them, but they weren’t looking.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: [writing blog](https://sleapywolfwrites.tumblr.com/) | [VLD sideblog](https://shirogane-atlas.tumblr.com/)  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/sleapygazelle)


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